


My Place Of Safety

by oratorio



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, PTSD, Post-Ending, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: Shepard somehow survived the Control ending. She's been patched up and sent back out on the SR-2 to help put the world back together. Thing is, she's not ready. Suffering nightmares and flashbacks, she struggles to sleep, and finds that the only comfort she can find is from her trusty pilot Joker. They soon both find that they are more than just a touchstone to each other.





	My Place Of Safety

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/gifts).



“Shepard.”

Jane cracked open her eyes and winced at the pain that shot through her head. Swiping her hand across her face, she was shocked to find that her cheeks were wet.

“What’s happening?”

She peered up blearily at the bearded face of her pilot, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder where he had shaken her awake.

“I’m sorry Commander, but you were screaming again. I didn’t think you’d want the crew to know, you know.”

Jane sighed deeply. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept properly. Her eyes were permanently puffy, and the dark skin underneath them told its own story. She was damned if something as tiny as insomnia would get her now, though, after everything.

“Thanks, Joker.”

It was an odd arrangement. She still had her space on the Normandy, of course, the same as it had always been. As if nothing had changed in the world. Her fish still darted back and forth in the large shimmering tank which took up a whole wall of her quarters. They had lived through this whole war, she thought, and not known a thing about it. If only I could say the same thing.

But she remembered too much. Even sleep was no respite, the lights in the sky blaring into her dreams, the scent of smoke and blood, the screams. She must have seen Anderson die a hundred times in the nights since the war ended. Each time she hoped that, somehow, this would be different, somehow this time she would save him and wake up knowing he was still alive, still there to tell her how proud of her he was. Yet every time she woke, she was alone.

It got to the point that she couldn’t bear it, and sleep was eluding her. On this mission, there was only one person she trusted. One person who understood, who had been by her side throughout. That was how she came to be sleeping in the co-pilot’s chair, night after night.

Or trying to, at least.

She swung her legs over the side of the chair and sat up, resting her head in her hands.

“What the fuck am I doing, Joker?”

The pilot gazed at her, his expression neutral. “Sleeping the sleep of the reluctant living? Hey, look at it this way, at least you don’t snore.”

Jane exhaled a bitter breath. “Got it in one. At least if I’d died I’d have a bit of fucking peace.”

“Didn’t work last time, did it?”

“You know it. I just wish people would leave me alone. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Joker swung his seat round and fixed her with a steely gaze. “Too good at your job, that’s your problem. You could always screw a few things up on purpose. That’s what I’d do.”

Jane couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You would never. You’re way too much of a perfectionist.”

“I’m just perfect, and you know it.” Joker grinned and tipped his hat, before turning away and resuming his work. Jane snickered under her breath at the man’s over-confident demeanour, but found she was entirely unable to argue.

* * *

She had been back on the Normandy now for three weeks. The world was returning to normal; the ever-present Reaper threat gone, the streets of Earth being cleared of blood and broken bodies, buildings being patched up and tidied. Yet, even “normal” didn’t mean peaceful. Batarian smugglers had targeted frigates carrying resources to repair the relays, and one of the galaxy’s top engineers had been kidnapped for ransom. It felt never ending.

At first, the Alliance had wanted to recruit her for ground duties, and she had even been tempted before she realised what that meant. Being wheeled out for universal media as some kind of figurehead or hero was not what she’d signed up for. The thought of people shouting her name, or – worse – trying to touch her, sent shudders down her spine. At least here, on the SR-2, she could get away from all the chaos. Here, it felt like home.

Or, at least, the closest to home she’d ever had.

Even so, it wasn’t the same. Most of her crew had, unlike her, grasped the rare opportunity for extended paid leave, and were with their families and friends, resting and recovering from the arduous demands of war. Joker was the only familiar face left on the ship. Mainly, she thought, because – like her – he had no family left, or any real friends to speak of. The Normandy was his life.

“Do you ever regret this assignment, Jeff?”

She’d been calling him by his given name more often recently, she’d found. It was surprisingly natural. He’d raised an eyebrow the first few times, but now he seemed to enjoy it. She’d never really asked him what he thought about his nickname, but she knew herself that she would hate being called something which started off as a way for her peers to tease her. Of course, he’d owned it, but surely his name was more important to him. She wanted to be important to him, too.

Shit, where had that thought come from?

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on the answer he was now giving her, after a pause for thought.

“ – being here is the most important thing to me, you know. No matter what. I’m not cut out for life on the ground.”

“You and me both.”

Joker met her eyes and smiled. “You get me. That’s another reason I’d rather be here than anywhere else. You, me and the ship. The perfect partnership.”

“It was, wasn’t it.”

“Still is, Commander. Even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes.”

“It doesn’t, Jeff.” Jane let out a shuddering breath. “Everything’s changed. Everyone thinks I am some kind of hero, and I suppose I was – back then. Now, I can’t even sleep in my own bed.”

“Hey, it’s not everyone who saves the world, you know. If that doesn’t take it out of you a bit, I don’t know what will. Give yourself a break, yeah?”

She might have been reassured, except, at that very moment, the console lights flashed and a screen showed an unknown object heading at them at a lightning pace. Joker swore softly and began to pull the Normandy back.

Time seemed to slow. Her eyes clouded over.

The lights of Reaper beams glowed across the ravaged landscape, rubble scattered beneath her feet, chunks of masonry, pale brick dust clogging her throat and smearing her skin. Glancing down, an arm poked out from underneath a fallen pillar, fingers curled in the last moments of pain. A silver wedding band glinted under the pulsing red sky. Her rifle was heavy in her hands, and she could feel the sweat on her palms soaking into the soft lining of her leather gloves. The scream of a banshee rose through the sounds of battle, a piercing, ululating cry.

The scream continued, lowered in tone, became rougher and broken, as if pushed through razor wire. It sounded human.

Jane felt arms around her waist, felt herself being pulled forward, her feet dragging along the ground. She blinked as her face pushed into the softness of another body, frowning in confusion. Everything went dark. She tried to speak, but her mouth was crushed against… what was that, a shoulder? At least the screaming had stopped.

“Shh, Shepard, it was an asteroid. You’re OK. We’re OK.”

Joker’s voice was close in her ear, and she began to realise that it was him who was holding her, his shoulder that she was pressed against. The trembling in her body was making him shudder, and his breathing was deep and heavy. She’d frightened him.

She’d frightened herself.

Nightmares were one thing – hard enough to cope with. This was something new.

“Shit.”

She disentangled herself from his arms, stepping away and looking at the floor. She couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what she would see there.

“I’m so sorry, Jeff. Fuck, I’m a liability. I shouldn’t be here.”

Joker’s voice had a strange, thick tone to it when he spoke, his usual upbeat demeanour absent.

“Like shit, Commander. I wouldn’t want to be on a mission with anyone else. I’d even do transport runs if you were in charge.”

“You would?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, in that case…”

“Aw, man. No way.”

She finally raised her chin to look at him. He looked pale, and despite her attempt to bring back the humour into their conversation, his expression was serious.

“I’m okay, Jeff. Well, I’m not, but I will be. Sorry to drag you into all this.”

“Hey, you know. What are friends for?”

“Friends?” Her voice was oddly small.

Joker made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “Sure thing, Shepard. Weird concept, I know. But isn’t that what we are?”

“I guess.” She smiled at him weakly. “Though I think that means you should start calling me Jane.”

“Hey, you’re still my Commander, right?”

Jane shocked herself by reaching out to take his hand. “I’d rather be your friend.”

A weighted silence blanketed them as they stood, holding hands, staring at each other. It felt as if hours passed before Joker spoke.

“Friends, then. Come on, Jane, must be time for a coffee break. Canteen?”

 

* * *

 

She nursed her coffee, her hands gripping the cheap pottery mug as if her life depended on it. Her head was spinning with thoughts. Whether she’d ever be able to sleep again, or do her job, without the constant nightmares. Whether the crew had heard her screaming, and what they might think of her. Whether anyone had seen her leave the cockpit still holding Jeff’s hand until they had reached the bridge and he had gently let go. Whether he would carry on calling her Jane. She found that she had had an almost physical reaction to the sound of her name on his lips. She was thinking about that, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Joker was watching her intently from the other side of the scratched, metal trestle. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, and his head was tilted slightly to one side. He looked different, yet somehow strangely attractive.

There it was again, those thoughts. When had she started thinking about him in that way?

She snorted. “You wouldn’t want to know.”

“If that was true, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“No, really, you don’t.”

“Try me.”

He looked so earnest that she cracked. Well, at least partially. She wasn’t going to say the other thing.

“I don’t know, Jeff. I was just wondering if I will ever be the same again. If I’ll ever be able to do my job the way I used to, or even sleep in my own bed. I feel like I’m completely useless. Useless to my crew, but to myself too. I don’t know what’s going on. Will I ever get better? Or is this how my life is now?”

Joker sighed and reached across the table, his hand covering one of hers. “You’ll never be the same again. None of us will. But this is our new normal, you know? It’s just something we have to get used to. It will get better, I promise.”

“How can you make that promise, though? How can you possibly know?”

“Humans are pretty adaptable, and I know you, Jane. You’re strong. You’re among the best of us. It’s shit now, it’s bound to be, but you’ll get through it.”

She shivered at the sound of her name again, but shook her head slowly. “See, this is the thing, Jeff. Everyone thinks I’m strong, I’ll be fine. What if I’m not?”

Joker gently prised her hand from her mug and held it in both of his. “I’ll be here for you whatever happens. That much, I can promise.”

To her horror, Jane felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked hard.

“But why, Jeff. Why would you want to be saddled with all my problems?”

“We’ve been through a lot together. You’d do the same for me, too. Wouldn’t you?”

Jane nodded. “Of course I would. I care about you, Jeff. I just thought…”

Joker chuckled. “You thought I wasn’t the caring type, huh.”

“No, no… that’s not what I meant… shit. You know. You don’t really do the emotions thing.”

“Never really needed to, honestly. Never had someone I gave a shit about before. Doesn’t mean I’m completely dead inside, you know.”

Joker snickered and squeezed her hand softly, before continuing. “You know, I care about you too, Jane.”

Her mouth opened, closed again. She blinked. Her brain had suddenly turned into cotton wool. She tried to force herself to say something, anything, as the silence lengthened.

“Goddamn it, Jeff. I love you.”

That wasn’t what she had planned. She froze, waiting for him to pull his hands away, retreat back to the other side of the mess table. He didn’t.

“What?”

He looked as stunned as she felt. Her throat seemed to be closing over, and her tongue felt heavy and thick. She shook her head to clear it.

“Forget I said that, I got confused.”

Joker raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Jane got to her feet, disentangling her hand from his.

“I’m going to check on the crew. Thanks for coffee, Jeff.”

She left him sitting there, staring into his own chipped mug.

 

* * *

 

The door hissed shut behind her, leaving her standing in the middle of a room which was so familiar, yet so alien. The shimmering blue light from the fish tank washed over her skin, making her look pale and ill.

She was tired. Her entire body ached. She could barely think straight. She couldn’t go on like this.

Jane sat on the edge of her bed and let her body fall backwards, her head sinking into the soft pillows. She tugged at the blanket and curled into a foetal position, staring at the wall. It felt like hours passed before her eyes, gritty and sore, eventually began to droop.

Twenty minutes later she was awake, screaming, her hands scrabbling across the mattress, seeking something that wasn’t there. Tears ran down her cheeks as she pulled herself upright, her forehead pressing against the fish tank, fists clenched so that her nails dug into her palms. Her skin was cold, and her whole body shuddered, down to her bones.

Slowly, she made her way over to her comm unit, and paged Joker.

“Hey, Jane, where’d you get to?”

His voice, warm and cheery, was like a balm to her soul. She inhaled deeply and let out a long, shaky sigh.

“I’m in my quarters. Thought I’d try to sleep here. It didn’t work out.”

“You OK?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“I’ll be right there.”

No hesitation. No sign of embarrassment or wariness after her ridiculous outburst earlier. Jane felt tears begin to course down her cheeks. She sank down on to her sofa and waited for him.

The sight of his silhouette in the doorway made her cry harder. Wordlessly, he sat beside her and drew her into his body, his arm around her shoulders, his chin against her hair. She let her body soften, leaning into him as if she were made of jelly. Maybe she was, the way she was trembling.

“Hey, hey, I’m here now.”

He spoke softly, almost a croon. She shivered and gulped down her tears, finally sitting up and looking him in the eye.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.”

He shrugged. “Like I said. Whenever you need me. But I do have one question.”

She raised her eyebrow.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t sleep up here, on your own.”

“I can’t. Clearly. But I thought it was about time I tried.”

Joker let out a heavy breath. “Does this have something to do with what you said to me earlier?”

Jane tensed. “Oh, here we go.”

“Hey, no, no, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I was just wondering. You know, if I’d been the one to come out and say it first, I’d probably be pretty embarrassed too.”

“I’m not… what?”

“See, there’s a small chance you didn’t mean what you said this morning, but I’m banking on you meaning it and then getting scared. So here it is. I love you, Jane. Now we can both be embarrassed.”

“Jeff.”

She could hear her own heart thumping in her ears as she looked at him, his open face, his wry smile, his glittering eyes.

He grinned at her thunderstruck expression. “So, do you love me then, or what?”

Jane let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

And he leaned in and kissed her.

 

Everything seemed to blur after that, into a mess of sensation, emotion and whirling thoughts. The scratch of his beard against her chin. The softness of his lips. The taste of his mouth – cinnamon, she thought, as if he had just been eating a boiled sweet. The light press of his palm against her breast through the thick hoodie she wore. She immediately began to fiddle with the zipper, needing his touch closer to her skin.

She moaned as he lowered his head to her exposed torso, pressing gentle kisses over her chest, flicking his tongue over a nipple. His breath was hot against her already flushed skin, and she could feel the hitching in his chest as he moved lower, down over her stomach, fiddling with her belt.

“Oh Christ, Jeff.”

She reclined against the cushions, fully exposed to him, watching the way he looked at her. The reverence in his expression as his eyes swept over her body. The love. How long had he felt this way, she wondered. How long had he kept this hidden?

When he lowered his head between her thighs, her whole body went rigid. She blinked furiously, staring at him as he began to drag his tongue over her, disbelieving that he was here now, doing this to her. It was like a dream. Except, no dream had ever felt like this.

One of her hands petted his hair, the other scrabbled along the top of the sofa, her nails scratching patterns in the leather. She was making low, whining noises that sounded completely alien. Spears of pleasure shot up her spine, down her legs, making her toes curl. She had suffered pain beyond anyone’s understanding, yet this was almost more unbearable.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck…”

The rest of the sentence lost all coherence as her body dissolved into a powerful orgasm, her nerve endings fizzing and her vision blurring. Her breath left her body, and it took her some minutes to be able to focus again.

When she did, she noticed one thing.

“Jeff, you’re too… dressed.”

“I can put that right.”

She watched in a daze as he methodically stripped off. It felt odd, somehow, to be seeing someone she knew so well in a state of undress. She’d never imagined they would ever be here… or that the sight of his toned chest, a smattering of dark hair across his torso, would have such an effect on her. She found that she was physically craving him, needing him to be inside her.

“Please, Jeff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Tell me.”

“I need you to fuck me, Jeff. Please.”

At her words, he looked as if he’d been winded. His jaw sagged, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Jane.”

“Now, Jeff.”

“When have I ever disobeyed a direct order?”

Jane groaned. “Now is not the time for that conversation.”

Joker grinned. “Okay. Bed.”

She couldn’t move fast enough, flinging herself down on to the mattress as he made his way over to her, laughing at her eagerness. He moved over her, pressing a deep, long kiss to her lips before she felt him push against her core.

“Ready?”

Jane snickered. “You need to ask?”

“Sure I do. I’m a gentleman, remember.”

“Then yes, I’m ready. So fucking ready.”

She gasped as she felt him slide into her, gripping the sheets of her bed in her fingers. He let out a long, low moan, so full of desire and pleasure that it sent a shot of electricity straight to her own centre. She loved hearing him like that. Hearing him slowly come apart as he began to move inside her, his breaths shaky, his words incomprehensible. His green eyes were glazed, as if he was seeing something far more beautiful than all the galaxy nebulas combined. She never wanted this to end.

He held her close when he came, his head buried against her shoulder. His whole body trembled, little aftershocks zipping through his muscles, or perhaps it was the sheer emotion which seemed to have overcome them both. They lay this way for some minutes, speechless, shivering, her hand drawing lazy circles across the planes of his back.

“I do love you, Jeff.”

“I know.”


End file.
